


Blue Horizon

by nocturneequuis



Series: Little Pieces of Heaven [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturneequuis/pseuds/nocturneequuis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not a lullaby, but a dirge. Ace is still too young to know the difference, or the problem with broken justice in a troubled world. These are things that Garp understands all too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Horizon

[Blue Horizon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dOUX6DxAk8w)

The afternoon sunlight shone harsh through the narrow dirty window. Below and out of site, the port town crawled with life. The caws of market vendors, the dulcet tones of pretty serving girls leaving sea weary sailors into taverns and restaurants. Pirates were bold here and marines just occupied a scrubby little broken glass outpost on the far side of the island, taking money from the local crime boss in a way that made Garp want to send them all flying with an uppercut. Fortunately, from where he sat, all he could see was the glimmering sea, pricks of sun dancing on the wavelets, stretching out to a sharp blue horizon, dotted with clouds. He’d like to be out on her and would be soon, but it wouldn’t be to enjoy the fresh salt tinged wind in his face or watch the wake break before the sleek bow of his ship.

Garp sighed, scraping the last of the stew from the bowl and setting the dented spoon on the scarred table. Then he rested his chin on his fist and stared out at the sea. Despite anything anyone might say, particularly behind his back, he was a careful man, a thinking man. One had to be if one wanted to advance in his line of work. Oh, rookies thought it was all following orders until you did good enough to give them; but it was more complicated than that. Orders were not just one time barks across canon strewn decks that were forgotten as soon as the battle was over; they rippled. They changed the currents of the world, from one place to another. It was a delicate balancing act, knowing when to charge forward, knowing when to pull back, knowing when to follow…and…knowing when to break. 

He scratched at his beard and watched a little merchant ship, a fast little clipper ship, dancing her way out of port, tangerine dolphins in her wake and a mail bird winging its way from the crow’s nest for parts unknown. There were probably new wanted posters. He’d lived his life by those damn things, determined to bring every pirate he’d met to the swift fist of justice. He’d lived for justice and he fully intended to die for it. For the black words on a white coat, a fist flying straight and true without hesitation—no matter what his son had to say on the matter. Despite him, or maybe because of him, Garp had had a flawless career. Not a single stain and then…

…and then that guy…

That bastard Roger. Garp had chased him up one sea and down another. It had been fun at first. There had been glorious battles. Heart stopping battles. Battles in which he was sure one or both of them would surely die. Still he’d never felt more alive than when he was hurling cannon balls at that proud ship, hearing Roger’s careless devil’s laugh and thinking it would be this time, this time. And what did that bastard do? Allowed himself to get caught and asked him a favor. Him a favor! The man that had wanting nothing but to see him in chains. The gall of that guy…that Garp couldn’t help but admire… 

He should have known that Roger wouldn’t let him go that easily. Wouldn’t let the world go that easily. The man’s grip was still tight on the throat of the world, however long dead he might be. Even tighter on Garp, practically strangling him with a duty he never intended to have. A squeaking whine came from the basket at his feet, heralding a full blown storm if he didn’t take care of it. Garp hesitated a moment, then plucked the small warm bundle from his nest of blankets. The baby blinked at him with large dark eyes, a chubby hand fisting near his face. Garp tucked him into the crook of one arm and ran a knuckle down one soft freckled cheek. The boy made another squeaky sound that made Garp chuckle inspite of himself, and twisted his head toward the knuckle, opening his mouth like a small pink fish. Garp tickled his lips and let him suck on his finger, one tiny hand wrapping around it. He would need a bottle soon or everyone would know he was up here. 

“Already planning on getting me in trouble, eh?” he murmured. The baby had nothing to say to that and just looked at him with half closed, contented eyes. He was the key, of course. The key that would loosen Roger’s grip on the world and everything. This little soft boy, both too old and too soft at the same time could ruin this ‘new pirate age’ before it even began. And if Garp was the Marine he should be, if he kept following Justice as he had all his life, he would let this boy change the world. It wouldn’t happen right away, not even a month or a year from now; but all it would take was Garp doing his duty and even the strongest pirate would go to jelly. They would know without a doubt that their was no one safe. Not their family at home. Not their mothers. Fathers. Spouses. Children. All would be crushed mercilessly by the weight of their sin. Smashed beneath the rocks of Justice.

Harsh as it was, even the snuffing of this small life, so warm and light in his arms, would save so many— and destroy so many. What were the ends that were meant to justify the means of murder? 

No. Not murder.

Execution.

Justice.

A gull cried outside, shadow swooping past the wall and the baby’s eyes shifted toward it. The gull was gone but the brilliant sea remained and the baby seemed transfixed, dark eyes wide. Garp watched him watching the sea and couldn’t help but grin as Ace reached for it, his small hands opening and closing. ‘Gimmie gimmie’ 

“All right, brat,” Garp said, opening the window and setting Ace on the sill, one broad hand covering his stomach and chest. Ace gripped his hand with both of his and leaned forward, a salt wind stirring the dark curls of his hair. Garp chuckled and rested his chin on that sleep warmed head and looked out at the sea himself and the forest of masts just below. A ship’s bell tolled somewhere and Garp took a deep breath in through his nose, smelling salt and sea and fish and baby. A gull cried again, out of sight and Ace lifted up both hands, flat as if he was trying to grab the ocean between them. 

“The ocean knows the beginning of the world,”Garp sang softly under his breath, the song beginning to hum through his veins just at that line. Ace twitched back at him as if he was interested. 

“The ocean knows the end of the world,” Garp continued and began to sway Ace back and forth as he sang, as if it were a lullaby instead of a dirge. “Thus it calls us towards the way we must take. Thus, it leads us toward a just world.” 

He trailed off. A just world where this baby. This tiny child who’d done nothing at all, would be made an example of just because he happened to be born. Garp’s teeth closed and the song died in his throat. That wasn’t justice. How was it justice? How could it have come to that? 

“Somehow it got broken,” he murmured, partly to Ace who had twisted around and was looking at him, sucking his thumb, his eyes still full of the sea. “What do you think, baby face? How are we going to fix it?” 

“Blee,” Ace said, reaching up and tugging at Garp’s beard. “Arbubu.” 

“You’re right. It’s unfixable.” And then, just like that. He knew. The answer was so simple. “We’ll have to make a new justice. What do you say to that?” 

“Blee!” Ace said, throwing his hands in the air, as if agreeing. No one said Ace had to live a pointless life, no matter who his father was. He could be a Marine. The new generation. Justice would ride on his small fists. Overcome by a surge of hope, Garp grinned and swept Ace up into the air, tossing him to hear his squeal of laughter, the song once more bubbling to his lips. 

“Enveloping pain and suffering, greatly and kindly wrapping them up.”He gave Ace a tight squeeze and threw him again and waltzed with him around the room. “The ocean knows the beginning of the world, the ocean knows the end of the world…” 

—  
—

They had let him through as he known they would. Despite everything there was honor. Among these anyway. So they had let him through and for the moment, he was alone. Dangerously alone, but somehow he felt comforted. Even as the white and orange blurred in front of his eyes. He reached out a faintly shaking hand, feeling singed and tired, too tired, like a hammer tossed into the sea. Nothing…had turned out like he had planned. Nothing… those brats just went ahead and did whatever the hell they wanted and— and damned if Garp wasn’t proud of them. 

“Look how it ended you idiot,” he growled under his breath, resting his fingers against the cool stone. “Is this what you wanted?” But yes. Yes it was. Not in so many words but he had died with a smile. Died—being loved— Which was what this brat had always wanted even though Garp always had. The little idiot. Loved him since he was born even by all rights he shouldn’t’ve. How had he missed him growing up? Who was that brash man who had defied the world? Who had saved Luffy’s life at the cost of his own? Garp wasn’t sure he knew, but in the end, it didn’t matter, he loved him all the same.

A gull swooped past. No. Albatross. Catching the wind and going high until it was lost in the dazzling blue and over the ocean. Garp smirked and shook his head. Idiot. Moron. 

“The ocean knows the beginning of the world,” he sang softly, shakily. “The ocean knows the end of the world. 

“Even if I—” he cleared his throat. “I were to disappear. The all-knowing ocean leads the way. 

“I must not fear…because you are here…” He clenched his hand into a fist, teeth pressed so hard together he thought they’d break, wet running warm down his face. “I must not be timid because my— my nakama wait for me.” And they’d be there for him. Ace had found nakama. Leave to him to find the worst people possible. The best people possible. Even though it was because of them, because of Ace’s love of them, that justice had crushed him in the end. Still the old justice. The broken justice for a broken world. But he would keep trying for a new world. Him and his apprentices, Coby getting stronger by the day and Helmeppo not far behind. Smoker… Hina… all of them would keep moving forward.

Garp stood straight and wiped his eyes with the the sleeve of his jacket before standing, almost at attention so he could see Ace’s grave clearly, Newgate’s right beside his, coat fluttering in the strong sea breeze. He sang the last line loud and clear, clear enough for even those damn Whitebeards to hear.

“We must advance towards the blue horizon.”

And then he turned on his heel and walked back to the harbor, his shoulders straight, back to the nakama who waited for him and the horizon just beyond.


End file.
